Spring in a Glass!
"Sometimes style is transcended by ritual and experiences enriched by ritual enhance life."
Albuquerque has had a rough spring. A spring best described as protracted, except
protracted is far too mechanical sounding for Spring, perhaps our most organic
season. Spring has meandered. Spring
started, as expected, in mid February with days where it was sunny and warm
enough to be outside working in a t shirt.
As the days lengthened in March, we were rewarded with a day or two in
the 80’s, shorts came out of storage and the Chickys in the mall found new
sandals.
Instead of a slow steady climb to mild temperatures we have
had days were coats were needed following days where the air-conditioning
was on in the car. We have had mild nights and those just above freezing juxtaposed
on either side of the same day. We get a taste of the warm air and then the
slap of the cold.
Our Meandering spring lead me to quickly spend a Saturday
afternoon in early April switching over homes ventilation system from heat to
cool….and I have regretted it since.
With our evenings dipping below the 40’s it has been hard to get out of
bed, and with no way to heat the home in the morning, even harder to scrape the
kids out of bed. I have been told this
is just par for the course in a High Desert Climate.
(Here in NM we don’t have air-conditioning with condensers
and air handlers like folks do in more humid climates. We have what are called swamp coolers. These
coolers work by pulling air through water saturated pads. The air is dry and as the water in the pads evaporates,
the air is cooled. Typically these
systems use the same duct work as the house heater.
So you either can heat your home, or cool it, but unlike a typical
forced air system to switch between the two requires work beyond flipping a
switch.)
Spring took so long to get here, I was forced to delay my
first spring Martini. It just didn’t feel
right to have a martini while wearing a sweater.
Last night, as I looked over the Rio Grande valley, the setting sun
illuminated thunderstorms maybe 30 miles away.
The sky was a robin egg Blue, which faded into the
orange of a set sun. The air was warm,
and a bit humid, spring had arrived.
I have written at length in this blog about spring and martinis ( Butchy's Overly Verbose Instructions on Olive Drowning, Thoughts Primavera, Martini Induced Thought) and I
think my opinions are fairly well established. Sometimes, however, there are events which call for extraordinary
measures. It didn’t seem right to have waited
so long for 1st Spring Martini to skimp out on the ritual of properly making
the drink. By mid summer, the martini
has become a bit old hat, and is made simply by dumping gin in a stout glass,
adding some ice, shaking it a bit and straining into whatever other glass,
finished by throwing in some olives. I’m
not proud of this admission, but at least I’m not using vodka.
I knew as I watched the storms across the valley, that this nights Martini would have to be done
right. Ritual processes enhance the effect of the final product. Like
getting dressed up for dinner, it’s the same food but a greater effect. The Martini ritual, definitely holds true in
this regard.
I took my time and found the elegant martini glass in the
back of the cabinet, they were washed, filled with ice and a splash of water. As the glasses frosted, I made olive skewers,
so the drink would not have to wait. 3
olives per skewer, every time. Our metal shaker, loaded with ice received the
necessary 5 “glugs” of Sapphire. Vermouth,
which is typically left in the cabinet, was indeed opened and lightly splashed
on top of the gin, just a trickle really.
(Had I been making a drink only for myself, the vermouth would not have
been opened, perhaps waived over the shaker, or replaced entirely with a happy
thought.) Our metal shaker frosted as it was capped and agitated until I could
no longer hold the vessel. The ice water
in the martini glasses was replaced with the Martini brothers, cold and cloudy,
slightly effervescent: pierced at the last moment as the olive skewers fell
into the glass.
With a brief smile, and a clinking of the glasses, spring
had finally arrived.
Cheers!
